


I Remember..

by JhinnyJaxy (ZoicZeph)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Camping, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Could be read as canon or canon divergent, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ppl will have to pry Good Guy Jax from my cold dead hands, Sick Character, Stuffed Toys, Travel, Traveling, Trust, Trust Issues, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoicZeph/pseuds/JhinnyJaxy
Summary: Jax reflects on times when he was just beginning to know Jhin. Though, not for his performances, but for the littler things.(Hopefully) cute, sweet short stories written late at night, forever updating and editing.





	1. The Purple Turtle

**Author's Note:**

> Written late at night, with a thing that has really terrible autocorrect. Not proofread. I'll fix them when I can!

I remember..

 

You'd been runnin' around the house all frantic-like, a look in your eyes that worried me to bits, even though I barely knew you. Then.

You looked as though you were gonna cry, but we're too angry to let yourself. Waved your hands just in front of your chest. Looked in every nook and cranny, like you were searching for somethin'. I remember askin' you what it was.

"None of your business, Grandmaster," you said, tossing the same pillows as before to the opposite side of the tableseats. You didn't trust me. "Go outside, I'll be there in a moment."

I just shrugged and left. Went outside, as you said. I took a look at your garden that had just started to bloom. The trees looked beautiful, I remember that. Kinda gave me a warm, fussy feeling. Kinda in the chest, but kindof in your tummy too, yano? It smelled sweet, with all the flower blossoms. I sat down at a bench by onna those big bushes and took in a big breath.

It was then that I noticed it. A little purple turtle, a stuffed one. Kinda cutesy, looked like it belonged to a little kid. It sat on the other side of the bench, hunched over the edge a little, on its belly. It looked like it was lookin' at somethin' on the ground, almost. When I glanced over where it was lookin', there was a bunch of flower petals scattered across the gravel path, and two barren stems layin' just in front of the bench.

I picked up the turtle, dusted it off, then looked it over. It had three little black-button eyes that looked like they were sewn on recently, a funky shell pattern, and a soft, blue belly. I kinda liked the poor thing.

I walked back over to the house, still lookin' at the thing when I bumped into you again. I'd noticed you looked a bit disheveled. Kinda disheartened. You stepped back to give me room, noticed the turtle, then gave me a look that straight up made me want to puke. Your eyes flashed with a wild wind of terror, like you were just about to be killed. Or worse.

After a moment passed, I handed you the turtle. Carefully, almost distrustingly, you took hold of its tiny little hands and took it back. Your face shifted with some realisation then, slightly, and you held the toy by the sides. You turned around, slouched, and started to gently, lovingly brush off the residual specks of leaves and dirt, and buried your face in the plush's soft underbelly. A minute or two passed, and then you adjusted the animal so it's front legs wrapped around your neck, like it was huggin' you, then hugged it close.

Your eyes flicked between the corner of the porch and me. You had a guilty expression, but seemed to know I didn't really mind.

"His name is Buggaboo," you mumbled. "He's one of my favorites." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think Jhin keeps stuffed animals. He worries that, when and if people find out, they'll mock and belittle him.


	2. The Campfire

I remember..

 

You always used to be so cold. Acted like you didn't really care. Not that I expected you to, no one ever did care about me, 'less it was convenient. It's always bothered me, even though I always expect it. For some reason it really stung when it was you. More than normal.  Guess it was 'cause you were so on and off about it.

You used to roll your eyes at me whenever I said anythin' 'bout food. Call me somethin' bad whenever I talked back, hangin' the bit about how you were payin' me and that I should behave. Sway your hips and give me some kooky death glare that looked way practiced.

I'd still talk back. Always did, with you. I think you got that I was playin' with ya, meant no harm by it. Even when you got mad. Looking back on it now, I probably should've kept to myself. Some of the shit I did just to piss you off made me look like a dick. It was really all just me throwing I shit at a wall and seein' what stuck, but sometimes I was really rude. I just wanted to see you smile, or hear your laugh. Just once.

That's what I've always wanted to do for anyone who didn't come at me with the full intent to kill my face: make them feel safe, happy, and to cause them to smile and laugh at least once. I gave up on changing the world a long time ago, but I sure as hell try and change at least one person's day for the better.

Eventually, I did make you smile. A genuine smile, not one of them evil, fake ones you give out. It took a while, and a hell of a lot of shit, but I did it. And it damn well was the prettiest, most wonderful smile I ever did see.

We sat side by side, you half-wrapped in your sleeping bag and blanket. The night was mostly warm, but dark beyond belief. Only things visible were the stars in the sky and the measly crescent-moon that hid behind the trees. The both of us stared at the fire as it slowly died, leaving black and burnt orange coals below pale wood.

"It's a shame something so beautiful dies so quickly when you leave it be," you said. "As though the world never wanted it."

"The world never wanted anythin'," I replied. "Things just happened, and the world just watched."

You turned your head to me, "Watched?"

"Well, the world doesn't want or not want anything. Other things do and don't want other things. Plants don't want winter. Humans want other humans. I don't wanna have to deal with those prissy ass Ionians all day, and _apparently_ this damn fire don't wanna stay lit."

You smiled, laughed even. Kinda snorted and giggled, "I too."

"What, dealing with Ionians or staying lit?"

"Being as I was never on fire in the first place, I would say dealing with Ionians."

We both laughed. Always were good at banter. Sometimes we'd get some gems that were worth writing down, but other times we settled for some basic quips.

"Well, I would want to go to sleep now. Wouldn't you?"

I tried to hide a grin, "Is that an invitation or are ya tellin' me to shut up?"

"That is for you to decide."

You flashed me a devilish smile and drew your sleepin' things to your shoulders and laid down, resting your head on a pillow. I stayed up, watching both the embers cool down and you restlessly adjusting yourself in efforts to make yourself comfortable. It wouldn't be until you were halfway asleep and the embers had long died away that I laid down next to you in the back of the wagon. You reached out in your sleep and rested your hand on my arm, breathing a sigh as we both had a good night's sleep.


	3. The Boiling Eggs

I remember..

 

I was cooking.

Now, I've always been a pretty good cook. Used to cook all the time for my family, way back when. I stopped for a while, when they all.. yeah.. then got back into it since, well, I'll die of starvation if I don't get food.

Decided I wanted to cook you something. Mostly because, after eight days of traveling, I was really tired of overcooked rice and limp, soggy green beans before bed. Full offense, you're a terrible cook. Not that that's bad, just that you have other talents. You have _plenty_ of talents. Cooking is _not_ one of them.

Pretty sure you have the exact _opposite_ of a talent when it comes to cooking.

Anyhow, I was cooking. Bought some chicken, honey, garlic, and some other stuff from the town's broker. I also splurged and bought a dozen fresh eggs from a farmer I passed by; which made me completely broke, but damn, was it worth it in the end. I prepared the chicken on skewers and had it soaking in some sauce I made from the honey and a bit of vinegar I already had on me; planning on having them roast over the fire. While I was waitin', I was boiling the eggs I bought and taking a closer look at the rice you had in the wagon.

You peered over the side of my small traveling pot, pressing the tip of your finger to your lips. You seemed interested, but had a look on your face of someone who was too proud to admit it

"What exactly are you doing with these... _things_?" you asked eventually.

"Boilin' 'em," I took a few cupfulls of rice and put them into your larger pot, turning to shuffle through my bag for water. "Why you a-"

"Are they supposed to dance around like that?"

I coughed as I tried to stop a laugh, "Never heard anyone describe boilin' eggs as ' _dancin_ ' before."

You flinched, then turned up your nose defensively, "Well, everyone is an _idiot_ , then, because they look like they're dancing. I don't know what boiling looks like, but I can guess it looks _nothing_ like dancing."

"Don't know what boilin' looks like? That sure 'splains a lot."

You scoffed at that, " _Excuse_ me?"

"Nothin'."

You continued to watch me cook. If I remember right, you took my egg boiling tactic and later used it to make me lunch.

Tasted awesome.


	4. The Ick Day

I remember..

 

Well... to be honest I barely remember. In all fairness, I was sick as ass and the only time I could tell was when I was about to throw up my breakfast and last night's dinner. The world wobbled in ways it shouldn'tve, causing me to stumble about. It swirled and swirled and threw me every which way as it randomly switched the direction it was turning. If I wasn't already sick to my stomach, I would've gotten kerfuckled just from motion sickness alone. My throat burned so bad. I was parched, but I was also afraid asking for water so soon into the trip wouldn't be received that well. Barely had the energy to lift my own feet forward, I was so tired. I'm pretty sure you thought I was drunk, at first. I don't blame ya on that one. Any other day and I probably would've.

  
I don't know how long I lasted until my legs fell out from under me. Luckily you didn't see, or maybe you did. Whatever happened, whether it was on my own or not, I somehow got into the back of the wagon and passed out.

  
I woke up what seemed like only a few minutes later, but the day had gone from late morning to dusk, and the sky was quickly fading from blues and greens to black as the sun tucked itself below the horizon. There was a woody pop, embers twirling into the sky amidst a swirling cone of ash and smoke. When I looked over, there was a blurry form of somebody crouched, knees to chin, stoking a campfire absent-mindedly. I was upset that I couldn't clearly tell my surroundings.  
A few more blinks cleared everything up as I was reminded of my other senses. I nearly shot up from the bed I was in, everything screaming at me to fight. I reached for the nearest thing I could use as a weapon. Stopped only when your head snapped to face me. We both froze in anticipation, like we were facing off in some sort of High Noon showdown biz. If it could, pretty sure my heart would've leapt from my chest, since I realized what had happened since I fell asleep.

  
I couldn't help but think you looked absolutely stunning that night. I already thought you were on the prettier side of humanity, with just... all of you. It was all.. it looked beautiful, you looked beautiful. Especially then. The light of the fire flickered across you, making your kinda messy-yet-stylish hair look like it's tips were small flames, burning. Your one eye opposite me was glazed over by orange light, only leaving your brownish one to gaze at me with an expression of confusion and.. concern, almost?

  
It's a little hard to tell with you, when you thinkin' hard. Or when you're caught off guard like that. It's like you feel so many things at once, yer face has a complete shutdown cause it tries to do everything at once.

  
"Jax," sounded like you were gonna say somethin', but didn't finish.

  
We exchanged words. Don't remember really what was said, but I do remember a couple times I had to turn away to throw up in a bin you gave me at some point. Every time, there was a hand on my shoulder, sometimes one rubbing my back. Both were welcomed gestures. Eventually, I got so exhausted I laid down again, one hand on the bin, and another holding the blankets that were on me for some reason. My stomach made a gross noise as needles of pain jabbed me from the inside. I must've made a noise or something that concerned you, and you quickly and gently brushed the back of your hand against my forehead.

  
"You stay put," you said, bringing the blankets up to my chin and giving my stomach a little rub. "I have some tea in the front there, it might help that stomach bug of yours."

  
I only looked up at you, nodding. I wasn't really in the mood to try my chances and see how far I could go without following your instruction. You're kindof naturally irritable and impatient, usually cause yer worried about one thing or another. Or bothered my something. Kinda... internal weirdness you got goin' on, suppressing and hiding what's stressin' ya, making it come out in kinda fucked up ways. You also _really_ don't like it when things don't go according to plan. I've gotten good at telling when yer stressin', so I don't bother ya.

  
I just.. laid there, made myself comfortable. It was either going to be a long night, or a long week, an' either way I decided then it'd be easier just to roll with it and see where the tide took me. As I was half-nodding off and half-listening to you shuffling things around in the wagon, I couldn't help but note a scent I'd come to equate to you on the blankets.

  
Firewood and lotus blossoms.


End file.
